


Black Fever

by freeshipping



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Punk, Badass teenagers, F/F, F/M, M/M, Not Fluff, Punk Lexa, Swearing, Violence, smut probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-23 08:27:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3761527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freeshipping/pseuds/freeshipping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A dark red, glistening fluid slowly spread across the white linoleum..."</p><p>Clarke and Lexa are social rivals at Black Pine High School, where they mostly stay out of each other's way. But when a bloody fight occurs between Lexa and Clarke's boyfriend, Finn, Clarke decides to take matters into her own hands. In an unlikely turn of events, Lexa and Clarke form an alliance on the backs of the lies of their friends. Rampant with sex, violence, and a hell of a lot of drama, this is the story of a high school full of fighters, survivors - and occasional murderers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Guilty

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, I realize the first chapter is pretty short and doesn't have any sex or drugs in it (sorry!) I promise the next chapters will be more exciting. I'm also going to try and keep this fic pretty short, since some of my other ones have gotten pretty long and out of control and I was never actually able to finish them..... Unless, of course, you guys want me to keep going.
> 
> Let me know what you think, and if you'd like to read more!   
> Cheers,   
> Sophie

_Fever got me guilty_

_Just go ahead and kill me_

_Fever, why won't you explain…_

 

_Now if the cold pale light in your eyes_

_Reaches those horizon lines_

_You know not to leave her_

 

_Fever_

 

-       The Black Keys, _Fever_

 

**12:00 noon**

A dark red, glistening fluid slowly spread across the white linoleum. Clarke scrambled backwards and out of its path, sitting on the floor against a cold brick wall. She could feel the rough wall through her thin tank top, which was now splattered with blood.

 _All this blood is going to take forever to wash out of my hair,_ she thought, laughter bubbling in her throat at the thought. Her mind was wiped clean by panic, the only thoughts in her head trivial and insignificant. As sirens wailed and people ran, screaming, around her, Clarke leaned her head back and closed her eyes, praying for release.

**7:56 am, approximately 4 hours earlier**

Lexa blacked out half a second before her head slammed into the ground. When she came to, she was surrounded by a group of people. Her people.

“Come on!” Finn was shouting, “Come at me, bitch!”

Lexa snarled, stumbling to her feet. She could feel blood leaking out of her nose and hands grabbing her arms to hold her up, but she shrugged them off. “This one’s mine,” she stated, and her people knew that voice. That voice meant to back the fuck off.

Finn laughed. “Yeah, okay, what are you gonna do?” Just then the bell rang, and the kids around them started hurrying to their first class. Soon most of her people were gone, with the exception of her trusty Gustus, and of course Finn.

“Need to go to class, princess?”

“Do not call me that.” Lexa leapt at him, grabbing a handful of his long hair and slamming his face into a nearby glass display case. The glass shattered around them, and Finn yelled as he fell to the ground, his face covered in blood and embedded with broken shards of glass.

“Lexa, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” She stepped back from the mess as Lincoln charged towards them, lifting the groaning Finn up and dragging him down the hall. “I’m getting him to the nurse, I’ll deal with you later,” he growled over his shoulder.

“You will not _deal_ with me,” Lexa replied, her chin held high. “You will support me as the rest of my friends do. You cannot tell me what to do, Lincoln, nor can anyone else.”

“But I can damn well try to keep you out of trouble.”

Finn and Lincoln disappeared around the corner and Lexa looked down at the mess before her, absent-mindedly kicking a piece of glass across the hall with her combat boot. “Even you don’t have that much power,” she whispered.

**10:14 am**

Clarke was beginning to get nervous. She hadn’t seen Finn in AP Stats, and Octavia, Jasper, and Monty all claimed they hadn’t seen him around all day. She sent him about twenty texts asking where he was and if he was okay, but no response.

“Relax,” Octavia said, popping her gum, her feet propped up on the table as they waited for their English teacher to arrive. “Your boyfriend’s fine. He’s probably just sick or skipping or something. Nothing to worry about.”

“You don’t know that,” Clarke snapped, “He always responds to my texts, and you know Finn has a knack for getting in trouble.”

“Clarke?” Abby, Clarke’s mother, who also happened to be the school nurse, called into the classroom. “Could you come with me please? It’s Finn.”

Clarke leapt out of her seat, scrambling to grab her bag and nervously waving goodbye to Octavia as she followed her mother out into the hall. “What’s happened? Is he okay?”

“He’ll be okay. Got beat up pretty bad. His face was smashed right through a glass case, it took awhile to get all the pieces out but he’s resting now. Luckily Lincoln got him to me right away, so there was no infection.”

“Who did it?”

Abby sighed. “I’ll let him tell you. I don’t want you doing anything stupid right now.”

Finn tried to get up when Clarke walked in the room, but Abby made him lie back down. “Don’t you dare stand up on my watch, Finn Collins. You need rest and you’re not going anywhere with your face in bandages.”

His face was a gruesome sight, mostly covered in bloody bandages. There was also blood matted in his hair, and despite being a trained lifeguard and medic, Clarke felt a little bile come up in her throat. She could see where the skin was torn off around his neck and lawline.

“Jesus,” she whispered, sitting carefully on the edge of Finn’s bed. She placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, then one more on his lips, which had been left thankfully intact. He was still warm and soft and gentle as always. “Tell me who did this.”

Finn shook his head slightly. “Clarke, I know you, and I know you’ll go after them. We don’t need any more fighting around here.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

Clarke stood up, drawing a shaky breath. “I _will_ find out.”

“I know, but I can keep you safe as long as possible. Please don’t do anything stupid right now, while I’m too hurt to help you.”

She hefted her bag onto her shoulder with a scowl, glancing down at Finn’s worried expression. “No promises,” she sighed. “Sorry.”

Out in the hall, she had to pause for a moment to catch her breath. Finn had gotten injured before, usually in sports, but this was the worst one he had ever gotten. Clarke was normally very level-headed, quiet and smart and artistic. She focused on her schoolwork and her painting and occasionally went out with friends, but she generally kept her head down.

Except when shit like this happened. When other people were getting hurt, she had no choice but to intervene. She was always in charge on group projects and a leader in debates, and now she had to learn how to control the social scene as well, before anyone else got hurt.

“Hey, Clarke!” Lincoln, the student teacher in her Biology class, was waving her down from across the hall. “I saw you coming out of the nurse’s office. I know this must be hard for you, after what Lexa did to Finn--”

_“Lexa?”_

“Um…” Lincoln froze, seeming to realize that he had made a mistake. “Clarke--”

She was marching down the hall before he could say another word.

 


	2. Charged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is essentially Guilty pt. 2

**11:32 am**

Clarke slammed her hand down on the table, startling the students sitting there and silencing their conversation immediately. “Lexa, you bitch. I saw what you did to Finn.”

Lexa slowly stood up to face Clarke. She was decked out in all black, a leather jacket on top of a Slipknot shirt and combat boots. Clarke, on the other hand, wore a yellow and pink floral sundress. She suddenly felt very self-conscious of how non-imposing she looked.

For years, Clarke and Lexa had arguably been the two most popular people at their school. Clarke didn’t like to use the word “popular” because it implied a social hierarchy based on worth. Perhaps “well-known” or “dominant” would work better. Clarke dominated the academic and artistic realms, and Lexa dominated the athletes and punks. They had always kept to their respective groups, rarely interfering with each other or even acknowledging one another. Their agreement was unspoken.

Now Lexa had crossed a line.

Lexa sized Clarke up, noting the strength in her arms and shoulders. The girl wouldn’t be easy to take in a fight. What’s more, they were in the middle of the cafeteria, where everyone would see. No, it would be better to handle this one diplomatically.

“Clarke, did you ever ask yourself _why_ I had to do that to your boyfriend? Everyone needs a motive.”

“You didn’t _have_ to do anything. You _chose_ to.”

“Fine, but what do you think my reason was?”

Clarke paused. It was certainly a point she hadn’t considered before. “Okay… this won’t change anything, but why did you do it?”

“Come by after school,” Lexa commanded, scribbling down an address on a spare napkin, “And I’ll show you what your darling boyfriend has been up to.”

“How do I know it’ll be safe for me?”

Lexa sighed. “I’m not a savage, Clarke. I know how to have a civil discussion.”

Clarke took a deep breath before nodding. She opened her mouth to stay more, but was shoved out of the way before she could. She tumbled over a chair and slammed into the floor, her breath knocked out of her. She rolled over onto her side and looked up at her attacker.

It was a girl Clarke had never seen before, tall and tan and gorgeous. Clarke thought she was probably a senior in high school as well, but she certainly wasn’t from Black Pine High. The girl had thrown a hard punch across Lexa’s face, sending her backwards into a table.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” The girl shouted at Lexa, “Slamming his face through a pane of glass? Are you a fucking monster?”

Clarke hauled herself to her feet. “Hey…” she began, and the girl whirled around.

“What?!”

“Who are you?” Clarke asked, “You know Finn?”

“Of course I know him, he’s my boyfriend.”

Clarke stared at the girl in stunned silence for a moment, just before Lexa smashed a lunch tray over the girl’s head. She cried out, stumbling back against a nearby wall. Clarke raced forward, trying to pull them apart.

“Get back, Clarke!” Lexa yelled, “This girl attacked me, this is my fight now!”

Clarke tried to come up with a rebuttal, but was shoved out of the way before she could say anything. For the second time, she sprawled out across the linoleum. This time, she stayed down.

“I had to do it,” Lexa snarled at the girl, “You would understand if you were in my position.”

“And what position is that? Being a psychopath?” She tried to charge at Lexa, but Lexa slammed her back into the brick wall, her head hitting the bricks with a loud crack. Blood trickled down the wall behind her. Clarke scrabbled out of their way to avoid getting trampled.

When Lexa went to hit the girl’s stomach, she whipped out a pocketknife. There were shouts from the people around them, most of which had already gotten away from the scene. They could hear a couple faculty members yelling over the crowd, trying to make their way to the fight.

“You won’t use that,” Lexa growled, reaching for the girl’s wrist.

The girl slashed out at her, leaving a long gash on Lexa’s arm. Blood sprayed out, splattering Clarke, who had been backed into a corner. The girl lashed out again, this time slicing through Lexa’s shirt and deep into her stomach.

Blood poured out of the wound, gathering into a dark puddle and seeping across the floor towards Clarke. She closed her eyes and tried to forget about the scene in front of her as Lexa tumbled to the floor.


	3. Hear My Voice

_You and I, we're the same._

_Live and die, we're the same._

_Hear my voice, know my name,_

_you and I, we're the same._

 

-       The Avett Brothers, _Live and Die_

 

“I would punch you if your face wasn’t already torn up.”

Abby grabbed Clarke’s arm, holding her back from Finn, who mostly looked alarmed and confused. “Clarke, what happened?” Abby asked, “You’re covered in blood.”

“Who was that girl?” Clarke demanded, ignoring her mother. “Tall, tan, gorgeous… she said she was your girlfriend.”

“Fuck.” Clarity spread across Finn’s features as he realized what had happened. “Clarke…”

“You were having an affair?” Clarke’s voice cracked, and she was barely holding back tears. “You were cheating on me? Tell me it isn’t true.”

Finn swallowed nervously. “I can’t do that,” he whispered.

Clarke left without another word, slamming the door behind her as Finn’s voice echoed down the hall, calling out her name.

**7:24 pm**

The hospital buzzed around them, but Clarke was only focused on one person. The gorgeous punk girl stared up her from the hospital bed, looking oddly vulnerable with her stomach and arm wrapped in bandages, her heavy black makeup removed. She looked so young, and Clarke realized she often forgot that she and Lexa were the same age.

“Is that what you were going to tell me about Finn?” Clarke asked, “That he was cheating on me?”

“No,” Lexa replied, “I didn’t even know about that. I was going to tell you about his drug problem.”

Clarke stared at her in stunned silence. “He started visiting this club I work at about once a month, then once a week, then nearly every night. It was mostly coke, though I know he experimented with party drugs. There was a lot of passing out in back rooms, hooking up with other drugged-up girls, and getting kicked out for misorderly conduct. Being the club’s bouncer, I saw all of it.”

Clarke was still too surprised to process any of it, so instead she did the only thing she could do: she asked more questions. “But why did that lead to you attacking him? And why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

Lexa sighed. “You should understand why I didn’t tell you, Clarke. I didn’t think it was my place to get involved in another couple’s affairs. I was just doing my job, not spreading gossip. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Okay.” Clarke took a deep breath. “I can understand you on that one.”

“And I confronted him over one of my friends, Indra. She was the bartender at the club, and her and Finn were constantly disagreeing and getting into fights. He wouldn’t leave her alone, and she wanted him to have consequence for his actions. Then, a couple nights ago, she went missing. When we started asking around about her, we saw Finn sneak away out the back door.

“It seemed suspicious, so of course I was going to confront him about it. He would neither confirm nor deny having any involvement with her disappearance, and when I pressed further, he punched me.” Lexa pointed to her eye, which was bruised, purple and swollen. “So I had no choice but to fight back.”

Clarke was silent, leaning back in her chair. “I’m sorry. For all of this. I should have seen what he was doing.”

Lexa shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Clarke. I don’t blame you, I just want you to open your eyes.”

“I am.” Clarke stood up and approached Lexa’s bed, cautiously pushing her soft brown hair out of her face. “Don’t worry, he’ll get what’s coming to him.” The other girl stared up at her with wide eyes, and Clarke felt something jump in her chest. She had never realized how similar her and Lexa really were before now.

“After I get out of here, we’ll talk more. We’ll figure something out.” Lexa’s voice was no more than a hushed whisper, so Clarke had to bend down to hear her. She smelled like citrus, sharp but sweet.

“Yes, we will.” The girls caught each other’s gazes, their faces only a couple inches apart. Clarke felt her breath catch in her throat. Before she could move, Lexa leaned up and planted a gentle kiss on Clarke’s cheek.

“I’ll see you in school.”

“Yeah, um.” Clarke stood up, clearing her throat. “Don’t rush your recovery, come back only when you’re ready. Here, let me give you my number.” Lexa handed Clarke her iphone, and Clarke hastily punched in her contact info.

“Goodbye, Clarke Griffin.”

“Get well soon, Lexa.”

Once out in the hall, Clarke had to lean against the wall to catch her breath. She had felt something in there, something she had never felt with someone else. Certainly something she had never felt with Finn. She and Lexa had an implicit understanding of each other, and it made Clarke nervous in some ways, as if the other girl could see straight through her.

She and Lexa had so much to learn about each other.


	4. Drunken Monologues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I'm going to start linking you to the songs the chapters are named after, since each one is pretty significant and chosen to set the tone for the whole chapter. So here are the past ones:
> 
>  
> 
> [Chapters 1 & 2 (as well as the main title)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZZUY32iCzU)  
> [Chapter 3](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FvGk506ucEk)  
> [Chapter 4 (this chapter)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pDYlWAf-ekk)

_She's a certified mind blower, knowing full well that I don't_  
_May suggest there's somewhere from which you might know her_  
 _Just to get the ball to roll_

 _Drunken monologues, confused because_  
_It's not like I'm falling in love I just want you to do me no good_  
 _You look like you could_

 _Come on, come on, come on_  
_Before the moment's gone_  
 _Number one party anthem_

-       Arctic Monkeys, _No. 1 Party Anthem_

 

**1:45 pm**

Finn was fucked. Well, figuratively. In literal terms, he was very much not fucked. He had messed around with these two strong women for too long, and he knew he should have known better. He should have picked weaker prey, but dominant girls had always been his downfall.

He had gone back to his apartment early, stripping off his bandages the first change he got, despite Abby’s warnings. He stared at his bloody reflection in the rusty bathroom mirror, flickering fluorescents illuminating each little cut and bruise on his face. He would have more than a few scars once they healed over. And to think he used to consider himself handsome.

“This is karma,” his reflection told him, staring back at him with dark, hollow eyes. “You brought this upon yourself.”

Finn gripped the counter so hard his knuckles turned white. “I did what I had to do,” he hissed, “You know those girls were crucial to the master plan.”

“But you failed, and now you’re even lower than you were before.” His reflection leaned back, crossing his arms with a sly smile. “You’re so fucking dead.”

“No. I can still fix this. I can get other girls.”

“He’ll kill you for this, and you know it. You won’t be getting more of the red anytime soon.”

“I’ll get more girls, timid girls.”

“You know that won’t work. He needs warriors, not shy pushovers. And you’ll need months to win over their trust again, especially after these girls spoil your reputation.”

Finn swore. He hadn’t considered the possibility that Raven and Clarke would talk, but he realized they weren’t about to take this lying down. “Then what the hell am I supposed to do?”

His reflection leaned forward, bracing his arms on the bathroom counter and holding Finn’s gaze, unblinking. “You _end them._ ”

Finn drew a sharp breath. _“What?”_

“You end them. Or you die.”

Finn stepped back, taking his gaze off the mirror for the first time in their conversation. He slowly stepped back, opening the door to exit the bathroom, then pausing and looking back. His reflection gave him a lazy, conceited wink.

Finn took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Get out.”

“Excuse me?”

“ _GET OUT OF MY HEAD_ ,” He bellowed, picking up his toilet plunger and bringing the handle smashing into the glass in front of him. “GET. OUT.”

So, for the second time that day, Finn Collins found himself in a pool of broken glass and blood, tears streaming down his face.

**9:14 pm**

Jasper was laying in bed, staring anxiously at the ceiling, when Monty tapped on his window. He waved for the other boy to come inside, and Monty clumsily tumbled through the open window onto Jasper’s carpet.

“Shh! Jesus, are you trying to get my whole family in here?”

Monty suppressed a giggle. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jasper replied glumly, staring at his floor and avoiding Monty’s gaze.

“Hey,” Monty said, his smile fading, “What’s up?” He perched on the edge of Jasper’s bed, where the other boy was curled up forlornly in a ball.

“I don’t know.” Jasper was picking at the edge of his blanket, still refusing to look the other boy in the eye. “I’m confused. About everything.”

Monty leaned forward and put a hand under the other boy’s chin, carefully tilting his head up to look him in the eye. “It’s okay to be confused, that’s just part of growing up. You know I’m here for you, and you don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

Jasper felt himself tearing up. Shit, he didn’t want to cry in front of Monty. Not like this. He buried his face in his hands, rolling away from Monty to face the wall. “Maybe you should leave,” he mumbled, his voice slightly choked with tears.

He felt the mattress dip, then a warmth pressed against his back. Monty had crawled underneath the blanket with him. “It’s just me,” he whispered, “Jasper, for fuck’s sake, it’s _me_.”

Jasper was straight up crying now, big salty tears that rolled down his cheeks and soaked his pillow. “I really can’t--” He swallowed. “I can’t tell you about this. I’m sorry, I just can’t put it into words.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.” Monty’s arm wrapped around his side, twining their fingers together. Jasper gratefully squeezed back, glad to have some human comfort. He felt the other boy pressing soft kissed to the back of his neck, trailing down his back, Monty resting his forehead just above Jasper’s collar.

They laid in bed together until they both fell asleep, the quiet of the darkness enveloping them both.

**2:14 am**

Jasper awoke with a start at early in the morning, and it took him several minutes to realize who was in bed with him and to remember the events of the previous evening. “Fuck,” he swore. He felt Monty stir behind him.

“Monty, wake up.” Jasper flipped onto his back, shaking Monty until the other boy came back to consciousness.

“What?” Monty asked groggily.

“Get up. Please Monty, please leave.” Jasper could feel himself on the edge of tears again.

Monty was awake now, staring at Jasper with wide, confused eyes. Jasper closed his eyes, not wanting to see the hurt in the other boy’s eyes. “Please,” he whispered, “Don’t say anything. Just leave.”

He felt the edge of the bed dip and the warmth leave his side, and sighed gratefully. Ten seconds later he heard the window slide closed and opened his eyes to find himself alone once again.

Jasper cried himself to sleep.

**4:37 am**

Anya swiped at a straggler with her broom. “Get up,” she snapped, “It’s nearly five in the morning, get up and get out of my club.”

The man (woman? nonbinary person? Anya decided it didn’t matter.) mumbled incoherently, shielding his eyes from the bright overhead lights.

“I don’t care what kind of drugs you’re on, club closed seven minutes ago and I need you out of here so I can clean up.” Normally Anya would have Lexa doing this kind of work, but her right-hand woman was currently incapacitated in the hospital and Anya had to resort to doing the dirty work herself.

At 5:01 am, she had finally shooed the rest of the stragglers out of the Red Room and was hunched over the bar drinking tequila straight from the bottle. She thought she deserved it.

She heard a door slam behind her and groaned, resting her forehead against the cool surface of the bar. “Not now, Cage, I’m really not in the mood.”

“I don’t care. We need to talk about Finn.” The young, sharply dressed man stepped out from the shadows, approaching the bar as if he owned the place. But he didn’t, she did.

“Get the fuck out of my club, I’ve been awake for 28 hours straight and I don’t need this right now.”

He leaned one elbow on the bar and smiled at her like a panther smiles at its prey. “You’re such a fighter, Anya. So much wasted potential.”

“I told you, you’re not allowed to use my club as your feeding grounds anymore. If you want more girls, you get them from somewhere else. And keep Finn away from here, he keeps sneaking in and I don’t welcome his type here.”

“His type?” Cage questioned innocently, “And what type is that?”

“Your _employees,_ ” Anya practically spat, taking another swig of tequila. “I know what you send them here to do, and I don’t endorse it. Find some other club to do your dirty work at.”

Cage drew a sharp breath between clenched teeth, letting it back out with a low, drawn-out whistle. “And here I was hoping we could make a deal.” He leaned back on his elbows, crossing his legs and surveying her dirty club superciliously.

“Ugh. You’re a snake, and I don’t deal with snakes unless it’s to put a bullet in their skull.”

Cage laughed. “You’re still so fierce. You were only fifteen when you took over this place, and you haven’t slowed down in eleven years, have you?”

“I never will.” Anya drained the rest of the bottle and slammed it down on the counter.

“At least hear me out.”

“Ugh.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Cage turned around to face her, leaning down so their faces were only inches apart. “I am offering you a seven-figure sum to let me do business here. People know you, they trust you, and you have the exact type of clientele that I need.”

“Seven figures is a lot of money. How often?”

“Every week. And from the looks of this place, you need it.”

Anya laughed. “You come onto _my_ turf, you insult _my_ club, even as you insist you need it--”

“I don’t need your club, Anya. I need _you._ Please just consider my offer.”

“Why don’t you consider my offer instead?” Cage looked up at her, just as Anya spit tequila onto his face.

He slowly straightened up, wiping his face off with his sleeve. “I’ll come back tomorrow,” he said calmly, backing out through the open door. “I won’t give up on you just yet, Anya.”

Anya switched off the main lights and locked the door after he left, leaving herself sitting on the empty dance floor, bathed in red light.

 


	5. A Drop of Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning in this chapter for self harm and drugs//
> 
> [This chapter's song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AwREYU7Zc5o)
> 
> Don't worry, I have some fun romance/sex planned for the next chapter :)

_I try desperately to run through the sand_   
_As I hold the water_   
_In the palm of my hand_   
_Cause it's all that I have_   
_And it's all that I need and_   
_The waves of the water_   
_Mean nothing to me_

-       Twenty One Pilots, _Addict With A Pen_

**4:09 pm**

Someone was knocking at Finn’s door. He opened it with the hand that wasn’t currently holding a joint and found himself face to face with a furious Raven. “Clarke said you weren’t in school today. Or yesterday.”

Finn stepped back to let her in his apartment, taking a slow drag and exhaling before replying. “You’ve been talking to Clarke?”

“You cheated on both of us, Finn.” Raven fixed him with a steely glare. “And since we _both_ want to kill you.. yeah, we’ve been talking. Just on the phone, we haven’t spoken in person since Wednesday, when, you know….”

“What do you guys talk about?”

“You, mostly.” Finn stretched out on his worn-out couch, leaving Raven to stand. “How much we hate you. How we’re both completely done with you.”

“Nah, you don’t mean that.” Finn reached for her arm, but she stepped backwards and out of his reach.

“Yes. Yes, I do,” Raven told him in a hushed, choked voice. “I don’t hate Clarke, because she didn’t know either, but it will be a long time before I’ll want to speak to you again.”

“Raven, I--”

“And she told me about your drug problem,” Raven interjected, “And Finn, as much as I want to help you, I simply can’t be involved with you anymore. In any aspect. You’re poisonous, and we both know it. Even your parents knew it, that’s why they kicked you out months ago.”

Finn stared at the ceiling, refusing to meet her eyes for fear he might start crying. He let out another slow exhale, watched the putrid smoke billow up to his cracked plaster ceiling.

“You used to be so sweet,” the beautiful girl next to him said with a sigh, “You used to actually give a damn, but now you only care about drugs and yourself. What the hell happened to you?” She turned and was half out the door before Finn spoke up.

“The Red Room.”

“What, from 50 Shades of Grey?”

“No. The nightclub downtown.”

Raven paused, glancing back at him. “What about it?”

“There’s a man there who promised me great things, if--” He swallowed his next words. He couldn’t tell his former girlfriend about Cage’s plans, not without ruining everything. “Just. Please come with me there, and it’ll all make sense. I promise.” Finn finally brought himself to meet Raven’s unblinking gaze. She had always been the stronger one.

“Fine,” she said curtly, “But only because we have history. I’ll do this one last thing for you Finn, then I’m gone.”

“Tonight?”

“Tomorrow. You still look like shit.” She turned and slammed the door behind her, plaster dust falling from the ceiling from the force of it.

Finn flicked the last of his joint onto the carpet. “Charming as always, Raven,” he muttered under his breath.

His reflection in the window grinned. “You’re not out of the woods yet, Finn. That girl still might be the death of you if you don’t play your cards right tomorrow.”

“Shut up,” Finn mumbled, pulling a blanket over his head and falling into blissful silence.

**9:45 pm**

“I hate myself. I hate Raven. I hate Finn. I hate everything.” Clarke took another swig from her beer, staring up at the stars from the hood of Octavia’s car.

“You don’t really,” Octavia replied, “You only hate Finn. You know it wasn’t yours or Raven’s fault, he’s just trash.”

“I guess you’re right,” Clarke mumbled. “Octavia, I don’t know what to do. I really thought Finn was it for me, and now I’m all alone again.”

Octavia laughed so hard she nearly broke a rib.

The blonde girl stared at her. “What?” she asked, “What’s funny? Nothing’s funny. I’m _alone_ and _miserable._ ”

Octavia giggled again. “You’re one of the most self-sufficient people I’ve ever met. You’ll never be alone as long as you have yourself, and you certainly don’t need a man to make you feel good. You’re just feeling scorned right now, but in a couple weeks you’ll be glad to be single again.”

Clarke took a long sip of her beer before responding, swirling it around in her mouth and closing her eyes before swallowing. She had never really liked the taste of beer, but it was better than hard liquor and cheaper than wine. And besides, it was growing on her. “I hate it when you’re right,” she muttered.

“Besides, he wasn’t the be-all, end-all for you Clarke. You know that.”

“Fuck you.”

“You know it.”

“I know, but I still loved him. Or at least, the person I thought he was.”

“There’s someone better for you. You deserve someone who can keep up with you, and he wasn’t it.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Clarke fixed her gaze on the stars twinkling far above them, millions of light-years away. She knew some of them were long burnt out, that their light was just reaching her retinas while they had stopped shining a millenium ago. It made her feel so small, made her feel like she had to rush through the life that she had because to the stars above, her lifespan was the blink of an eye. Every second she wasted thinking about worthless boys was another second closer to her own burning out.

“On another note, my brother’s coming home this weekend.”

“Oh,” Clarke replied, “Cool, I guess. Do you guys get along well?”

“Yeah, I love my big bro. He’s always taken good care of me, since our mother spend so much of her life shooting up, even years before she OD’d.”

“I’ve never met him,” Clarke remarked curiously. “Is he hot?”

Octavia punched her arm and Clarke giggled. “Shut up, how am I supposed to know? Anyways, he’s 23. Way too old for you.”

“Nah.” Clarke wrinkled her nose. “I turned 18 a month ago, I’m good to go.”

“Anywayyyss,” Octavia drawled, rolling her eyes at Clarke’s half-drunk rambling, “He’s going to be back tomorrow afternoon so I’ll be busy, but we’re going to crash a college party tomorrow night if you want to come along.”

“Ugh, I guess that means I should stop drinking for the night if I’m going to be out again tomorrow night.”

Octavia shrugged. “You bounce back pretty fast. Doesn’t your mom notice you sneaking out to all these parties though?”

“She works the night shift at the hospital,” Clarke replied, “Never even notices when I’m gone.”

“So we’re on for tomorrow night then?”

Clarke raised her beer, clinking the glass against Octavia’s. “As always. Turn the fuck up.”

And they drank.

**11:51 pm**

Jasper couldn’t feel anything. It wasn’t that his pain tolerance was particularly high, he just felt too detached for his brain to register the cuts in his skin, even as droplets of blood ran down his pale skin into the bathroom sink. He felt so numb. He just wanted to feel something, anything.

He caught his reflection in the mirror: pale, hollow cheeks, dark circles under his eyes. He was a straight-A student; is this what he had become?

He cut another line into the underside of his arm, and this time he felt it. It went deeper, and he felt the sting. There was always a delay with razor blades. The cuts were so thin that it took a few seconds for the blood to well up, so for those few seconds the tear was invisible. Then came the blood, a surprising amount for such a thin cut, but then it always was.

He felt the sting in the back of his throat a few seconds before saltwater blurred his vision, in a twisted parallel to the blood on his arm. He cried for twenty, forty minutes. He didn’t even know, all he knew was how good it felt to let loose. He hadn’t been able to cry in weeks, and all the pent-up emotion spilled out in the bathroom sink.

When he finally felt like the storm had passed, he was so tired. He felt like he had washed five years of his life down the drain with blood and tears. He hastily cleaned off his arm and wiped away his tears before stumbling down the hall into bed.

He slept better than he had all year.

 


End file.
